


Glory in the Desert Rain

by lizzstomania



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2017-11-05 18:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzstomania/pseuds/lizzstomania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> <em>higher and higher/we're gonna take it down to the wire/we're gonna make it out of the fire</em> (or the one where Dean and Cas try to go to Vegas and get caught in a thunderstorm)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glory in the Desert Rain

**Author's Note:**

> beta’d by my brightest diamond, erin. written for the deancas one word prompt contest on tumblr. my word was _desert_. title stolen from (my very favorite) the killers' song, [bling (confessions of a king)](http://tinyurl.com/tkbkoak). that there's a download link.

Vegas had seemed like such a great idea at the time. Blow off some steam, raise a little hell, narrowly avoid getting in trouble. Southern California is nice, no disrespect, but sometimes Dean just wants heat and nowhere's as hot as the desert.

He'll take that back. There's nowhere hotter than right here, nothing hotter than Castiel's skin pressed against his, burning away everything until there's nothing left but heat. Heat and heat and heat and searing kisses and scalding palms, all of it blazing hotter and hotter, taking him higher and higher so that not even the sun could hold a candle to their flame. They burn each other up, hearts racing, skin feverish. It's raining, Dean knows it's raining, but how can he focus on something as trivial as a desert storm when he has everything he ever wanted right here in his arms? As Castiel tears the shirt off his body (he literally rips it in half. Dean would be pissed, but it's an old shirt) thunder rumbles overhead and he can feel it shaking him to his core, vibrating in his chest, echoing his heartbeat. It's more than just thunder; it's _Castiel_ , his roommate, his friend, his confidante, the only other person he trusts in this God-forsaken world besides his brother. It's Cas he feels in the pauses between heartbeats.

They're pressed together, not so much kissing as sharing space, both reluctant to move apart. Finally, eons later, Cas pulls back but not away and looks Dean straight in the eye. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to; Dean knows exactly what he's thinking. Slowly, Dean closes the distance between them, but instead of kissing Cas, he presses their foreheads together. Castiel sighs into the soft space between their bodies. The rain falls and Dean knows that this changes _everything_.

***

When Dean falls asleep, they've just passed San Bernardino on the 15. It's early (much too early for his taste even though it's ten in the morning) and due to his exhaustion, he lets Castiel drive. He knows Cas, trusts him, but is still generally reluctant to let anyone drive his baby, Cas included. But Cas is a good driver and he seems to understand that regardless of what he might have once said, no matter where Dean sits, he's the one who picks the music. Dean wakes up with his head on Cas' shoulder and Johnny Cash whispering in his ear. He's aware of heat, blistering heat just beyond reach, and stillness. They're not moving.

"Cas, why aren't we moving?" he asks, voice thick with sleep.

"Don't be mad."

Invariably, when Cas tells him not to be mad, Dean will end up being _very_ mad instead. Dean looks up but doesn't move too much, choosing instead to glare at Cas from below.

"And what am I not mad about?"

"I..."

Dean sits up and glances around. They're not on the freeway. He can't even _see_ the freeway.

"Where the fuck are we?"

"I... don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I was hungry so I got off the freeway. But I couldn't find the Del Taco and then I drove around—" Cas' voice is rising steadily and Dean can see the freak out coming a mile away. "—some woman at the market told me to turn and I did and now we're lost and this is all my faul—"

"Hey!” he interrupts. “Cas, calm down." As much as Dean wants to rage, now is not the time. He'll give him hell for it later, when they're not slowly baking in the middle of the desert. "We'll just go back the way you came, okay? Shouldn't be too hard, right?"

Cas mumbles something and Dean knows he did _not_ just catch the words 'flat tire.'

"What was that?"

Cas heaves a huge sigh. "We have a flat tire and I don't know how to change it."

Yes, Dean will be very mad later.

"Fuck, okay," he says, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "It's about time you learned." The look of sheer terror in Cas' eyes is almost enough to make Dean laugh. Almost.

An hour later, laughing is the last thing on Dean's mind.

Cas proves to be an excellent student and they get the tire switched in about five minutes. Unfortunately, Cas isn't having as much luck with directions; he can't remember exactly which way to go and Dean is nervously watching the needle on the Impala's gas gauge work its way steadily down. He holds his phone out the window, praying for service.

"Stupid—fucking—fuck you, America's largest 3G network," he grumbles at his phone. "When we get back, I'm switching to AT&T. Get me an iPhone."

"Verizon has iPhones now," says Cas idly from the passenger seat. He's twisting the cap of a bottle of water between his fingers. "And I think you should make a... right at this fork."

"Are you _sure_ this time?" Dean doesn't mean to be an asshole, but they've been playing this game for an hour now.

"Yes." At least Cas _sounds_ sure. Dean cuts right then slows down, ignoring Cas' questioning look. Dean leans forward and shucks off his over shirt. He's hot and Cas is already down to just a t-shirt. He settles back and looks up.

"Alright! Let's get unlost!"

Two hours later, Dean decides that he really hates the desert.

They're unlost; that is to say, he can see the freeway, but they are now out of gas. He has a gas can, of course he does, but Dean is not looking forward to the possibly-miles-long trek to the nearest station. He’s tired and hungry and hot and irritated and taking it all out on the closest living thing, which means Cas looks more and more like he regrets ever becoming friends with him. And to cap it all off, the sun is sinking towards the horizon and Dean really doesn't want to be stuck in the desert in the dark with Cas. Did he mention he was hungry?

"Okay, let's go."

"Go?"

"Yes, Cas, _go_. We're going to get gas. And food."

Cas looks at Dean skeptically for a long minute. "Would it not be wiser for one of us to stay?"

"Probably, but here's the thing," Dean's patience, short at the best of times, is almost non-existent at the moment. "This is _your_ fault so _you_ should be the one to get gas, but to be honest, I don't trust you to not get lost on the way to the gas station."

Cas is looking at Dean like he wants to kill something and Dean can't really blame him. They've been roommates for three years and friends for six; sometime during the summer between junior and senior years, they came to rely on each other in ways they hadn't before. Cas came out and was summarily disowned and Dean's dad got drunk, crashed into a diesel, and didn't live to tell the tale. They spent a lot of time that summer crying to each other over the phone. Cas is the only person besides his brother, Sam, who knows about Dean's fears and Dean is sure he’s Cas' only friend. This means that they know exactly how to push each other’s buttons. Dean is acutely aware of Cas' fear of feeling inferior. He knows how much Cas resents his extremely strict upbringing and how much he hates it when he doesn't understand something because of it. Most of all, Dean knows that Cas would do anything for him and that Dean saying he can't trust him, for any reason, hurts him.

"I see."

"Look, Cas, I'm not sayin' I don't trust you _at all,_ " Dean sighs. Did he mention he was hot and tired and hungry? "I'm just sayin' I don't trust you to do _this_. By yourself."

"…I see." Cas' mouth is a hard line and Dean wants to punch everything.

"Whatever. Be pissed, but be pissed on the way to the gas station." Dean reaches down and pulls Cas to his feet. He shoves a water bottle into each of Cas' hands (and thank God he'd listened to Sam about buying a case of water for the trip. The water is hot, but it's wet and now they won't get dehydrated) and locks his car up. They set off for the freeway in the distance and Dean hopes that the little road they're on will stick around. He doesn't want to have to walk through the sand.

"I, uh," starts Cas a good half hour later. The freeway looks a little closer, but there's a weird energy in the air that Dean can't quite place. "I'm not sure if I ever apologized for getting us lost." He looks down at his hands, then up at Dean.

Occasionally Dean thinks Cas is ridiculously attractive and this moment is one of them. Cas is practically glowing in the light from the setting sun, eyes bluer and hair darker than usual. Cas is gay, but Dean has never bothered to try to identify his own sexuality. He likes what he likes and it doesn't really matter to him if a person has an innie or an outtie, so to speak. Cas has always been off-limits in his head though; Dean does not want to fuck up the only healthy friendship, shit, the only healthy _relationship_ he's ever had.

Dean realizes he's been staring instead of answering and Cas is looking at the ground again.

"S'okay," Dean says, hesitating. No, he's gonna go for it; Sam is always bitching at him about not showing his affection enough. He drops the gas can and pulls Cas in for a hug, his heart breaking a little at the way Cas slumps against him. "Know you didn't do it on purpose." Cas shakes his head, but since his nose is pressed into Dean's collarbone, it just sort of tickles. Maybe Sam's right. He should hug people more. Hugging is nice, he decides, as Cas' arms wind around him. Maybe it's just Cas. He should probably just hug Cas more.

"'M sorry, Dean," Cas murmurs against Dean's skin.

Dean squeezes him tighter for a brief second then lets go. He picks up the gas can and they start walking again. That weird tension is still in the air and a clap of thunder helps him figure it out.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be shitting me!"

"What was that?"

"Thunder! It's— _fuck!_ It's about to rain." the words were barely out of his mouth before hot rain was sweeping over them. " _Motherfucker_ ," Dean groans, throwing the gas can back on the ground. He doesn't hate rain but he doesn't wanna walk in it either.

Cas looks delighted, however. He's got his palms out and his head back and he's sort of swaying on the spot. "Dean, this is..." Cas seems to be searching for a word he can’t find and doesn't finish.

"Dangerous, terrifying, bad?"

"I was probably going to say awesome, but why dangerous? It's just rain."

"And lighting. And possibly flash floods. We could die."

"Hmm." Cas is still not looking at him, choosing instead to spin in circles around the gas can. Dean watches him dance with a soft smile on his face, because Cas never dances and he’s sort of terrible at it. Dean can’t focus on anything other than Cas; he’s never been more aware of another person in his life, even though Cas is fifteen feet away from him. Thunder claps again, accompanied this time by bright flashes of lightning. Dean has to bite back a laugh when Cas jumps almost a foot in the air.

“Could we really die out here?” Cas shouts at him, still spinning aimlessly in circles, drawing nearer.

“We could probably get struck by lightning!” Dean shakes the water out of his eyes and when he looks around again, Cas is right in front of him, staring at him intently. There’s something gathering in the air, hot energy that skates up Dean’s spine and curls in his fingertips. Cas is close enough to touch and for the first time in a long time, Dean can’t seem to remember all the reasons that touching Cas is a bad idea.

“Lightning?” Another bolt of it cracks the sky, almost in answer to the question.

“Lightning.” Dean reaches out and tugs on the sleeve of Cas’ dripping t-shirt. The rain is picking up, swelling, like the desert understands that this moment is somehow important. “We could get struck by lightning and no one would ever find us.”

"In that case…” Cas trails off.

“In that case?” Dean can feel it, feel the electricity in the space between breaths.

“I should probably tell you that I've been in love with you for years." Cas looks almost defiant as he delivers the admission, daring Dean to challenge him.

"You what?"

"I'm in love with you.”

The rain falls, softer for a moment then harder again and thunder rumbles low in the background.

“How long?”

“Years.”

"And you didn't feel the need to mention it before?"

"Decidedly not. You're terrible at romantic relationships—" Dean makes an indignant noise "—and I preferred your friendship over a broken heart."

"You..."

"Yes."

" _Oh_."

"Indeed."

"When?"

"Ah, this is sort of... embarrassing for me, but okay."

Close, they're standing so close. Cas’ voice is almost a whisper, rough and low, and Dean finds himself leaning closer still. Warm rain cascades over them, between them and Dean finds it oddly reassuring.

"You remember the summer after we graduated? How our jobs didn't start immediately and we had that month or so where we didn't do anything but watch movies and eat and sleep?" Dean nods, remembering that month as one of his best. He'd been really happy the whole time, which was a rarity back then. "And you remember the night we got drunk and watched _27 Dresses_ and I cried, but you didn't laugh at me? I think that was the moment. I think I loved you before then, but that was when I realized it."

"But I’m not... And you can't—“

"Your continued refusal to see your own self-worth is both irritating and endearing."

God, so close; Dean can see every individual eyelash. His brain is churning sluggishly, almost reluctantly, but he's working towards a grand epiphany. He can feel it. It rumbles inside him like thunder, snapping like lightning when it hits him.

"Holy shit."

"What?"

"I think I'm in love with you, too."

Wild, unfettered joy streaks across Cas' face before he tamps it down.

"What, uh... What makes you say that?"

"I was just... I tried to imagine my life without you and I can't. I want you around all the time and I— _holy shit_ , I love you! I _love_ you."

"Don't sound so excited."

Dean's too busy thinking to try and figure out Cas' tone. "Oh my God, this is why I'm so bad at relationships. They're not _you_. Ha!" Dean surges forward and crashes their mouths together for a short, hot second. "They're not you, so I don't want them for more than a little while, because why would I want _them_ when I have _you?_ " Again he kisses Cas, who's frozen in front of him, staring at him with big blue eyes. Now Dean feels like dancing, like spinning in the downpour, but Cas is immovable before him, mouth slightly open and looking especially kissable in the last bit of purplish light from the sunset.

“What?”

"This is…not what I expected."

"Huh?"

"I never... I didn't—"

Dean kisses him again and finally, _finally_ Cas kisses him back.


End file.
